True Worship

“O my people, trust in him at all times.
Pour out your heart to him,
for God is our refuge.”
Psalm 62:8 (NLT)

Friend, 

Last Fall, the church my husband and I planted moved to two services. This shift prompted structural changes within our staff, resulting in new or refined roles. I was content in my position as the Women’s Ministry Director. After a few years, I felt like I finally had a grasp on what to do. I felt secure in my responsibilities and in how to prepare for the coming year.

But I was suddenly thrown a curveball.

My position expanded to include discipleship and care for the entire church, not just women’s ministry. For some, this news would have been exciting, but for me, it was met with unexpected grief and discouragement. I had finally embraced my assignment to the women’s ministry after years of difficulty and challenges. I had zero desire to move into an area that felt overwhelming and weighty.

As my internal struggle deepened, the needs of our church continued to rapidly increase. The number of people with care needs and requests for community and discipleship stretched beyond my capacity. There is a shortage of leaders. Systems and structures need to evolve for this new season of growth and training.

This all takes time.

To spice things up, my children have entered the vortex of middle school sports. 8:00 pm games on the opposite side of the city, and late practices have consumed my normal margin.

Everywhere I turn, I am being stretched to my limit.

The Lord added more weight to my spiritual bench press.

Anger and frustration bubbled to the surface. I tried to keep up with all the wants and demands, attempting to remain present. I felt like I was drowning, suffocating from the pressure.

Then came the criticism.

Complaints about why certain things were not available or questions about decisions I made. Decisions that I sought the Lord diligently for.

I knew all the theological truths intellectually:
God is with me.
He is growing my capacity and my dependence on Him.

Yet there was a disconnect from my head to my heart.

My mounting frustration was now aimed toward God.

Why are you calling me to do something I didn’t ask for?
Lord, this is beyond me.
I am already feeling vulnerable, insecure, and incapable.
Why are you stretching me like this?

I found myself wrestling with God—angry with the path He set before me. Angry that the only place of relief was in His presence, but I didn’t want His presence.

Yet I knew turning anywhere else wouldn’t do.

So I continued to wrestle with Him.

I sat down with one of my pastors and poured out my heart about everything I was experiencing. As I rattled off my pain and angst, he grabbed a piece of paper and started jotting something down. Occasionally interrupting me with a question that unlocked a deeper level of my frustration.

When I finished, he asked me to listen to what he wrote and think about what it reminded me of.

He began mirroring my own words.

God, I’m overwhelmed and stretched past my capacity.
Will I trust or depend on You?

People are criticizing me.
I am angry, but I feel shame around my anger.

People have made me wrong for feeling angry.
But I know I can bring my anger to You, yet I still feel shame.

I am not in control of my life circumstances.
I am in situations I didn’t ask for.
I am doing what I really don’t want to do.

God, my capacity to feel safe with You is being stretched.
Feeling safe has been a struggle since I was a child.

I am overwhelmed by ministry, people, and family pressure.
My only escape, hope, and healing is in You.

I am feeling unsafe, but why?

God, You have proven Yourself faithful to me in the past.
But why don’t I feel it now?

When he finished, I said, “This sounds like one of David’s psalms of lament.”

The realization hit me.

Why was I judging myself for expressing my lament to God—for wrestling with Him?

I’ve read David’s countless psalms of lament and vulnerability where he pours out his heart to God. He expresses anger, sadness, feelings of inadequacy, and doubt. But I never once questioned David’s love and adoration for the LORD.

I see David’s worship.

Yet I was missing my own worship.

The type of worship that pours out her frustration like Hannah at the altar.

Worship that brings anger and pain concerning the people I have to lead to God, as Moses did on Mt. Sinai.

Worship that wrestles with God like Jacob, refusing to let go until I receive a blessing.

Worship that says, “LORD, I can’t do this. But not my will—Your will be done.” Like Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.

This is true worship.

The raw, unfiltered cry of the soul that draws near to God even when I am unsure of the outcome.

It was in this place of brokenness that I found home in His presence.

Accepted, not rejected.
Heard and held.
Safe.

In His Love, 
Danielle